Three Days
by The Youngest Writer
Summary: For 72 hours, my name wasn't Ponyboy. For 4,320 minutes, I was kept away from my brothers. For 259,200 seconds, I had never been more frightened in my life.
1. Chapter 1 Hazing Hours

**Another Outsider's story. Will be Multi-chaptered depending on if requested by reviews or not. Please enjoy :)**

**-The Youngest Writer.**

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><p><strong>Title: Three Days<strong>

**Summary: For 72 hours, my name wasn't Ponyboy. For 4,320 minutes, I was kept away from my brothers. For 259,200 seconds, I had never been more frightened in my life.**

**Rating: T, for Language, Slight mentions of Child-molestation and minor-abuse**

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><p><strong>~Three Days~<strong>

**CHAPTER 1-Hazy Hours **

My head felt like it was throbbing, I tried to lift it, but it felt so heavy. I moaned in pain, trying to open my eyes, but the sunlight only made my headache worse. I felt myself slightly shifting as the vehicle drove on. I fought with sheer willpower to try and stand so I could jump out of the van. Granted, that's not the smartest thing to do, but anything to get away from these guys. I tried to lift myself off the ground from the metal flooring of the van when at the front of the van, a man I couldn't make out turned around, tossing a beer can at my head, making me fall.

"Stay still!" He barked, his accent sounded southern.

I groaned in pain and agony. Having a headache and something hit you in the head didn't feel too good. The driver slapped the man on the arm.

"Knock it off! I need him stable when he get back!" He screamed, sending a ringing to my ears that had me moan loudly in pain as I ducked and covered my head, letting the cool sheet on the floor cool my forehead. I don't remember how I ended up in the van, but I felt fear rising and I tried to conceal it as best as I could, I couldn't panic now, I had to be brave and fight off as best as I could. I tried to lift my head once more, but my body wouldn't let me.

The pain was excruciating, every movement, jerk of pothole the van encountered, I felt my brain turn to mush in my head. I felt tears come to my eyes, it hurt so bad and I desperately craved some aspirin. Pretty soon we came to smooth roads and I felt my eyes become heavy, I tried to fight off sleep but darkness consumed me.

**~Three Days~**

I felt a cool washcloth being applied to my face and I didn't dare open my eyes. I was having a fight with myself from between fighting my way out, or laying still till whoever was touching my face left. The cloth felt nice against my temples and I didn't have a headache anymore. Nevertheless, I was still scared.

"I know you're awake, child." It was a female voice, soft and gentle, almost motherly like. Slowly I allowed my eyes to open and I was greeted by a woman with long, straight blonde hair and bright brown eyes. Her smile was gentle and she wore a white silk nightgown and matching robe. She was dabbing the washcloth on my face and although I was told never to hit a woman, I was seriously considering the option just to escape. I felt my bottom lip quiver and I felt childish knowing I was on the verge of tears. I was scared, who was this woman?

"Oh, sweet thing, don't cry." Her voice, almost a melody of chimes but brought me no comfort, spoke. "You're just sick."

Me, sick? I doubted I was the sick one, as a matter of fact, I'm more the victim than anything.

"Leave me alone!" I cried, hoping she'd leave. She just smiled and continued to pat my head with the wash cloth. Noticing I was bundled in soft blankets, I tried to cover myself, but she just removed them as I tried to hide from her. She made me feel uncomfortable.

"Michael." She spoke, firmly. At first I wanted to know how the hell she knew my middle name before I saw the door swing open. The room wasn't that big and the only things inside was the twin bed I laid on, a dresser and a screen window. My nerves were skyrocketing when the large man walked in, he was about the same built as Darry, muscular and tall. He wore faded pants and a red-plaid shirt, I could hear his boots thump as they hit the wooden floor, coming closer to me, sitting on the bed next to the woman.

"Is he giving you trouble?" The man sounded southern and I wondered if this wasn't the same man that chucked a beer can at my head earlier.

"He's scared, Rex." The woman replied, I stilled huddled in the corner of the bed, practically melting against the wall while they talked.

"Come here, Michael." The man, Rex, I assumed was his name, demanded. My first instinct was to not give in, try and escape. But he had piercing grey eyes and a stern scowl on his face that more than startled me. I didn't want to know what would happen to me if I didn't listen, he sounded loud, persistent and I didn't like it. Slowly though, I crawled back to the spot, leaning against the two firm pillows they had propped for me and before I could crawl back away the woman had me in a death-hug, snuggling and nuzzling her face in my hair. I was about to push her away but Rex continued to glare at me, daring me to move a muscle.

"Oh, he's just too cute!" She squealed. "Just a sweet boy you are, Michael."

I had enough of this 'Michael' nonsense. "My name isn't Michael. My name is Ponyboy Michael Curtis. Michael is my middle name!" I growled. I wasn't so sure that was a smart thing to tell my whole name, but what damage could it do to me now?

The woman frowned, "No. Michael will be your name from now on. I don't like that Pony name, it's too weird. Michael is a wonderful name for a wonderful boy." With that she kissed my forehead, making me squirm and blush at the same time. I shook my head.

"No! My name is Ponyboy! I want to go home!" I bawled, frustrated, slightly sleepy and scared. I couldn't keep in my emotions any longer, I was kidnapped and possibly forced to be someone's child. Rex narrowed his eyes before yanking me closer to him by the collar of my shirt, making me gag and choke.

"Now look here boy!" He hissed.

I gulped, Rex smelled like cigarette smoke and some other foreign scent of liquor. I couldn't tell if he was drunk or not, hopefully he was sober. He had a death grip on my shirt and I dare not pull away, but rather stare into his steel colored eyes, flaming with rage.

"Your name is Michael, that is your Mother." He pointed to the woman. "And I am your father! This is your home, you will like it, and _you'll keep your mouth shut!_" With that he shoved me back to the pillows with a force that made my neck crack. I couldn't take it anymore, this guy scared me, more so than Darry does when he hollers at me. I tried hard to bite my lip and scrunch up my nose to keep from crying but tears fell, grazing my cheek and dripping off my chin.

The woman gave me a sympathetic gaze and shushed me, eloping me into a large hug. "Oh, Baby, don't cry." She slurred, rubbing my back. "Did Dad scare you?"

I watched through teary eyes as Rex left the room without so much as a a glance back. I was glad he was gone, he scared me something awful. I didn't hug the lady back, but I did get a whiff of her perfume: Jasmine. She did her best to keep me calm, but I still shivered.

"Do you need another blanket, child?" She asked. I shook my head 'yes', hoping she'd leave the room so I could escape. To my surprise she opened another door that was a closet, inside she pulled out a blanket and I knew my plan failed. She had tucked me in gently, making sure I was secure and warm. She resumed her spot in a chair next to the bed and stroked her slender fingers through my hair. I wanted to tell her to stop, but I feared Rex might come back. I would glance at the door, left wide open, to see if he was standing in the door frame.

"Dear child, it's late. You need to shut your eyes and go to sleep." The woman whispered, still stroking my hair.

"Please," I was on the verge of begging. "I want to go home."

She smiled, shaking her head. "This is your home, Michael, I'm your mother. And I love you."

I did my best to try and stay awake, hoping she'd fall asleep before I did, but once again darkness began to consumed me, my eyelids became heavy, and with this woman's melody singing, it was hard to stay awake.

**~Three Days~**

Sodapop Curtis had trouble falling asleep, already it was three in the morning as he sat next to Darry on the couch. Darry wasn't too hot at the moment, he was hunched over with his hands pressed against his face. Soda knew how hard he was trying not to cry. It was just like last time.

"What have I done?" Darry spoke for the first time in four hours. Sodapop gently rubbed his big brother's back, wrapping his arms around Darry and closing his eyes.

"What have I done?" Darry repeated, more hesitantly this time as tears fell from his eyes.

He screwed up. Big time.

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><p><strong>Reviews, please. I'd like to see some when I get home tomorrow from a Chemo, please.<strong>

**-The Youngest Writer.**


	2. Chapter 2 The First Day

**Thank you all so much for the reviews! After I had my Chemo I felt very tired and went to sleep. I felt a little sick after a hours (but that's normal) when I felt better I came to check my Fanfiction and I was so happy to see the reviews. I love you all so much! **

**-The Youngest Writer.**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 2-THE FIRST DAY<strong>

**~Three Days~**

I was scared to open my eyes when I woke up to a blank wall. Back home we had posters of Elvis,_ The Rolling Stones, The Sex Pistols, The Everly Brothers._ These walls were blank. I gulped and slowly turned over, but the chair the woman sat in last night was empty. I took a big breath of relief, thankful I was alone. But I shuttered, wondering: Did I have a nightmare? I couldn't have. I didn't wake up in cold sweat. I shivered, feeling a cold breeze from the hallway.

Did I dare leave the bed? I didn't want to, it was warm and I didn't know what would happen to me if I left the room. Still, this was my chance to escape. I tip-toed out of the room, my toes nearly frozen from touching the cold floor, but I didn't care. I looked down the hallway, not seeing anyone present so I continued to tip-toe down the long hallway, until I froze, nearly screaming when a large hand was planted on my shoulder.

"Where are you going?" I turned around to see Rex. He was still dressed in the faded blue jeans and red shirt from yesterday. He didn't look too happy knowing I was out of the room. I tried to think of a reason as to why I'm out of my room. I shivered.

"B-Bathroom." I lied.

Rex harshly pulled me down the opposite end of the hall back to "my room" one door to the left, he pushed open, startling me and pointed inside. Inside was a normal bathroom with a toilet, mirror, sink and a white claw tub.

"Go." He ordered. I bit my lip, nodding as I slowly walked in, jumping when he slammed the door behind me. I looked around for a window but sighed in defeat not seeing one. I waited a minute or two before flushing the toilet, acting as if I hadn't lied to Rex, washed my hands and slowly opened the door. Sure enough, he was standing outside with his arms crossed, still not pleased.

"Come." He ordered, yanking me by the arm.

"Let go! You're hurting me!" I yelped, it was true, he had a tough grip on my arm and I felt that with him dragging me, and me trying to keep up, he was going to rip out my arm out of it's socket. Rex turned around, glaring at me, sending shivers down my spine. He was a tall man so he had to crouch down some to get to my level. He kept a nasty grip on my arm as he came face-to-face to me.

"You still haven't called me 'Father' yet. I'm slightly hurt, Michael." He hissed. "Call me 'Dad', Michael."

I couldn't believe his request. Never will I call him that title! I cried in pain as he started to twist my arm. "One little pop and I've done my job. Better hurry, I'm not a patient man." Rex smirked. I felt a burning pain in my arm and when I couldn't take anymore of it, I felt my pride slowly shatter as I screamed:

"Stop, Dad! Stop it, please!" I cried.

He laughed, loudly, "Just for kicks and giggles, call me, 'Daddy', Michael."

I screamed in pain as he twisted my arm some more. "Ow! Stop it, Daddy!" I cried, feeling any pride in myself slowly diminish. He laughed, letting go of my arm as I clutched it close to my body, rubbing it with my other arm, crying.

"Rex, why is that boy crying?!" I looked up to see the woman from last night. She was dressed now, she wore a puffy black dress with white polka-dots and a nice pearl necklace with pearl earrings. Looking around, I noticed art pictures and even a small fountain in the wall of the hallway. I could already tell this was a nicer house. She rushed to my side, looking at the marks Rex made in my arm, you could see his whole hand-print from where he gripped me. She 'tisked' and placed a hand on the back of my back, leading me from the hallway, I was surprised to see we walked in a circular motion, underneath us my jaw dropped seeing a three-tiered working fountain on the bottom floor of the two-story house. The pain in my arm slowly went away when the woman sat me in a chair, gently pressing a bag of ice to my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Michael. Dad likes to rough house. He should know my Michael is sensitive." She cooed, brushing away at my hair. I jerked my head away from her touch.

"Are you hungry, Michael? You must be, you went to bed without dinner." She replied, walking to the large stove and starting a fire. I turned to look around for an exit, but once again the kitchen had one doorway and she was standing next to it. I grumbled looking around the room. With the kitchen there was an attached dining room with a large window. I was given a painstakingly scary and beautiful view of Tulsa's country side. Miles of green, grassy rolling hills from hear on yonder. The sky was a haze blue and wisps of clouds started to form. Without looking at the clock, I could tell it was maybe a few minutes before sunrise.

Oh God. Sunrise! Darry and Sodapop must be so worried about me. I felt the ice bag being removed from me and I looked up to see the woman, she continued to check out my arm.

"Does it hurt still?" She asked.

I was too frightened to talk to her. I don't know why I even bothered, all I ever said to her went ignored. I shook my head, my arm healed pretty fast thanks to the coolness of the ice. She smiled gently, turning away to a small door next to the pantry. Opening it, she pulled out a warm coat, it looked to be a few sizes bigger than me, but she helped me put it on. It was a warm jacket, a dark blue with pockets in the front. Judging by how much money these people probably had, I could tell this jacket was something a Soc would wear. I didn't care though, it was warm and comforting.

"How about pancakes for my Michael this morning?" The woman smiled, kissing me on the cheek, staining it with her red lipstick. She turned to dish me up and I whipped the make-up off my face. It irritated me when she did that. I hated it when this woman, this stranger, kissed me. It felt like a violation and, for the millionth time, scared me.

She smiled watching me gobble down the food. Kidnapped or not, I was starving. The fluffy pancakes had butter and syrup, no edges were burnt and there was a little bit of batter in the middle of each pancake, leaving me a gooey surprise.

I looked up, realizing I must have looked like a pig eating so quickly. But what did I care? These people held me captive.

The woman giggled, reaching out to me, I tried to sink back, but her arm just kept coming closer, she held a napkin in her hand. I winced, closing my eyes but to my surprise she used the napkin to wipe the side of my mouth that was stained with syrup, unbeknownst to me. I gazed up at her. Today she had her hair tied up in small curls and a messy bun, her eyelashes were a dark black and her eyeliner was bold. She could be mistaken for those models I saw in the California Beach Movies. She was beautiful now that I got a better look at her.

"Michael, do you like the food?" She smiled.

I gently set my fork and knife down, "It's. . . .good." I mumbled, trying not to make eye contact with her. My eyes widened as I heard a pair of boots clomping their way towards me and in the window I could see Rex's reflection. I tensed up, thinking he was coming back to hurt me.

"Mom's cookin' was always the best, eh, Michael?" He laughed, patting my head roughly. I was shocked, these people talked to me like I'm really their son. I don't know if I should be scared, or feel pity.

"Leave him alone, Rexie, he's eating." The woman lightly scolded, brushing him off of me, thank God.

"Good, kid needs meat on his bones. Ain't no son of mine a scrawny chicken." Rex sat down next to me, I can't say I was more comfortable with that idea.

"He's a growing boy, dear." The woman smiled, tapping my arm. "He's not going to grow large over night. It takes time."

Rex smirked, nudging me as if I were his best pal and he had a secret to tell me. "We know one thing that does grow over-night." I nearly gagged at the profanity he spoke of, it sounded something Two-Bit would say. Remembering Two-bit, Darry, Soda and even Steve made my stomach flip. I wanted to go home. I could hear Rex laugh loudly when he saw me try and wipe away any tears I had forming.

"What's wrong with you?" He laughed.

I glared, "Well, I was kidnapped." I spat. Rex stopped laughing and gave me a serious frown, when he stood up I felt my heart race a million miles an hour as he towered over me.

"What did I hear?" He asked, as if he had no idea what I had just said. He slammed his hands on the table, startling me.

"ANSWER ME!" He obviously had an anger problem and I stuttered, "N-Nothing, D-Dad." Anything to get this guy to stop yelling at me, I'll tell them anything they want to hear. I figured as long as I could gain their trust, then that might give me an opportunity to escape. I gulped as the dead-silence lingered over the table and Rex slowly sat down. He kept his eyes on me while I quickly finished the breakfast the lady cooked for me. When I went to stand up to put my dish in the sink, Rex stopped me, yanking the plate and fork out of my hand.

"You smell." Rex growled. He nodded to the woman and she stood up, gently guiding me by placing both hands on my arms, leading me out of the room. I went back into a panic mode when the lady took me into a bathroom. It was fairly big, not like the one I went in earlier. This bath had a grey deep tub with wood finishing on the walls. I gulped, slowly turning around.

"I didn't get your name." I spoke, trying to stall her.

She looked up, her curls bounced at her every move. "I'm your mother." God, she sounded like a robot! I took a deep breath. "What's your real name. . . Mom." It hurt to call her that, she and Rex didn't deserve the title as parents.

She laughed, "You Silly. Before I met your father my name was Chrissy Haman. Now, I'm your Mummy." With that, she kissed my forehead, sliding my shirt off of me, or at least tempted to try.

"No!" I screamed. My insecurities and the fact that I would rather die than have a grown woman look at me naked. I wasn't ready for girls to see me yet, hell,_ I_ got nervous looking at myself in the mirror. Soda was lean and muscular and Darry was all muscle while I was stuck with baby-fat.

Chrissy just smiled, "It's nothing I haven't seen, Michael."

My eyes widened and fear kept tapping at my shoulder. _Did this woman look at me while I was unconscious?! _I prayed she hadn't. She resumed to try and take off my shirt and I fought her every step of the way, she hadn't gotten it over my head before she huffed. I knew I was acting like a two-year-old, but anything to keep her from looking at my body.

"Should I get Daddy in here and he'll do it?" She threatened. I paled. She knew how much that man scared me, but she had the Gaul to use him as a weapon. Rex was the last person I wanted to undress me, so I kept quiet and didn't fight her. I whimpered when she took off my pants, the same ones I slept in and were dirty. She just chuckled.

"Oh, Michael, you really are shy, huh? My shy baby-boy?" She nuzzled me and I shivered once she took off my pants. I was left in nothing but my briefs. She put her hands on her hips, as if she were scolding me. I was desperate and hot tears left my eyes as I tried to cover myself, looking up at her.

"Please, I'm begging you, don't make me undress myself anymore." I sobbed. She tossed my clothes into a basket and proceeded to sternly look at me, folding her arms. Before I could plead her once more,she had hauled me to my feet and swatted my rear-end, I yelped in pain.

"I don't like you sitting in nothing but your underwear, child. It's an easy way to get a cold. Now strip Michael, I'm done with the games." she firmly commanded. I noticed the door was closed and probably locked so I had no chance of escaping, I was afraid that if I stripped down to nothing but my skin, than she'd harm me in ways I didn't want to think of. I felt my bottom lip quiver as I felt her grip the liner of my briefs and take them off. I was absolutely humiliated being stark-naked in front of a stranger (and possibly one of my kidnappers). I had been seen naked before by my mother, she used to hand wash me till I was seven (god, I thought my brothers would never let it go) but this was nothing!

I stood helpless, watching her fill the tub with warm, steaming water, adding some sort of soap that crated bubbles.

"A little old for a bubble bath, don't you think?" I muttered, tears still falling form my irritated eyes. I was so sick of crying. She smiled and told me to hop in, at least she didn't touch me.

I shivered, being out in the cold air did get to me and the warmth of the water was plentiful. I tried to shy away when I saw her grab a bar of soap and a washcloth but she took a grime grip on the back of my neck, forcing me to retreat closer to her. I hadn't noticed how dirty I actually was until I noticed all the dirt she whipped off of my arms, my back and my chest. I yanked the washcloth out of her hands and washed my private areas before she could even think about doing_ that_. As much as I hated it, I let her scrub all the grease out of my hair and wash behind my ears. As much as I hated this woman for taking away any hope I had of her helping me escape, she was gentle. She talked soothing, comforting words, reassuring me that I was alright and I'd be fine. But I didn't believe her. All I did was hope Darry and Soda were closer to finding me.

After a humiliating experience of being forcibly stripped and bathed, Chrissy had applied lotion to my arms, hands and neck before fetching me a soft, warm towel that felt fresh from the dryer. I hated to admit it, but I was still slightly crying from all of this.

She pressed her cool, soft hands to my cheeks, "Don't cry, Michael. Let's get you into some clothes."

She led me back to the room I had woken up earlier in, the large towel wrapped securely around me. She closed the door and told me to sit on the bed. First she opened the window to let some air inside while she searched the dresser for some clothes. At this point, I didn't care if I had nothing but a towel on me, I wanted to hop out of the window and run.

She came back with a pair of clothes. She set them on the bed next to me, I noticed they were nice clothes that lots of Socs wore: Nice pants with good stitching, a red and black madras shirt and she had even chosen my socks and underwear. I gulped, looking up at her. She smiled and nodded.

"N-no, please." I begged, I was tired of begging, it got me no where, but I figured if I did it a lot, then they'd stop because I was annoying or something. ANYTHING.

"Towel off." She softly replied. I would rather she see me not naked, but earlier that obviously wasn't a choice. If I could get past with her seeing me naked once than that was still a win. She didn't move, just held out her hand, waiting for me to hand over the towel. I did so and she smiled, leaving to toss the towel away, I scrambled to put on at least the underwear so she wouldn't have to. When she came back, I was putting on the last sock.

"That was fast." She laughed.

I nervously smiled back, you have no idea, Lady.

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><p><strong>Reviews, please. I'd like to see some when I get home tomorrow from a Chemo, please.<strong>

**-The Youngest Writer.**


	3. Chapter 3 The First Night

**Thank you all so much for the reviews! After I had my Chemo I felt very tired and went to sleep. I felt a little sick after a hours (but that's normal) when I felt better I came to check my Fanfiction and I was so happy to see the reviews. I love you all so much! **

**-The Youngest Writer.**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 3-THE FIRST NIGHT<strong>

**~Three Days~**

I could hear the thunder before I gazed out of the window watching the dark grey sky. I gulped, being in a strange house against your will was bad enough, but I hated thunderstorms. I could deal with them at home where I had Soda, or even Darry to run to if I got scared, but there was no one to turn to here. I was told to stay in "my room", to make matters worse, Rex came in not long after I got dressed; I was laying on the bed trying to think of a plan to escape, thinking the door was locked, but he stomped in. I immediately got scared and huddled to the edge of the bed in the corner.

He just chuckled and began screwing something on the door. He chuckled, admiring his handy work. I noticed he had made a large key-hole, the key, tied on a string around his neck like a necklace.

"Now we'll know if you're in there or not." He smirked, laughing as he walked away. I felt my bottom lip quiver and slowly lowered my head, not wanting to look at him anymore. I laid on the bed for what felt like an eternity, needing to use the restroom and my stomach began to growl. I guessed I was probably locked in the room for maybe four hours, judging by how high the sun was by looking out my window, I could tell it was around noon.

I felt a wave of exhaustion hit me, as if I had been running all my life. I felt my chest heave up and down, I tried to gasp for air. I didn't know what was happening to me but I caught myself tangled in blankets and sheets and I cried out for help. A pair of hands gripped my face and when I opened my eyes, I was surprised to see how dark the room was. I felt sweat run off of my face and I tried to keep myself calm.

"Sssh, baby, you're okay. Momma is here." It was Chrissy. I didn't want Chrissy, I wanted Soda. I wanted Darry. I wanted to go home! I bawled louder and harder as she held me against her chest, rubbing my back.

"My dear Boy, what happened? Was it a nightmare?" She continued to ask me questions but I couldn't answer her, I was crying too much. It had dawned on me then, I wasn't just having a nightmare, rather I was living one now. Chrissy handed me a glass of water, when I didn't take it, she gently pressed it to my lips, slowly allowing a river of water to enter my mouth. I sniffed, calming down a little as she nourished me with the cool, iced-water. I did calm down a little bit, but I shivered and silent tears left my eyes.

"My Goodness, Michael. What happened?" She sounded worried. I knew right then I must have passed out from this afternoon and probably suffered from a nightmare. The scary thing was, I don't remember what I had dreamed about, all I felt was scared and confused. Normally I don't remember my nightmares, but when I do they're real bad, maybe I don't remember them because they're that terrible.

"Was it a nightmare?" She asked again.

I shrugged and she give me a look of pity, kissing the crown of my head before helping me on shaky legs away from the bed. She took me by the hand down a spiral of winding stairs, my eyes felt blurry, irritated and my throat felt raw. Where she led me was to a large living room with extravagant windows that gave us a nightly view of countryside Tulsa.

"Sit and wait." She softly spoke, leaving me alone on a leather couch.

_Here's my chance! Run away! _My brain told me. _No, stay. What if they catch you?!_ My conscious told me. My thoughts were emotions were having a fight and it just left me with an upset stomach.

Chrissy returned with a medium sized bottle and a spoon. She sat next to me and poured a dark red, goop into the spoon before holding it up to me. It reminded me of the medication Mom would give Darry, Soda and I when we were little and sick. I was hesitant at first, this woman gave me no reason to trust her, but then again, I'd rather her company over Rex's.

She firmly glanced at me. "Open up, Michael."

"May I have aspirin?" I asked.

"No, this will work just as fine. Now open." She commanded. Not wanting a fight, I slowly opened my mouth, allowing her to put the spoon inside and swallowed the cherry medicine with a stale aftertaste. I grimace when she poured one more spoonful and held it up to me, I closed my eyes and allowed another dose to enter my body. She smiled sweetly at me, handing me another cup of water to wash it down.

"Better, my child?" She kissed my forehead.

I felt shivers. I couldn't tell what was scarier, either I was kidnapped, or the fact that she literally was in a state of mind where she believed I was her child. She wrapped a blanket around me and flipped on the TV to some movie playing on the Late Night Shows. I felt a little more relaxed when I could get into the film of Cowboys, Indians and John Wayne. I was pulled out of the Old West mentality when someone plopped on the couch next to me. I shrank down when I realized it was Rex, sipping a beer with an arm drown across the rim of the couch.

I scooted away from him, but into Chrissy's lap.

"You're affectionate, Michael." She smiled, pinching my cheek. "Isn't he so sweet, Rex?"

Rex looked over at me, I tried not to make eye-contact. "Yeah, he's a Momma's boy alright." Chrissy seemed pleased with that statement and continued stroking my hair.

The movie was over and Chrissy led me with her hand on my back upstairs to "My room". I shivered as she tucked me into bed, trying to ignore the fact that her nearly exposed chest was in my face as she kissed my forehead goodnight.

"Momma loves you, Michael." She cooed, "How about I get my boy some warm milk before he goes back to bed?" Anything to get her away from me. I nodded. She left with a smile, promising to be back in a short while. I figured now was a good chance more than ever to try and escape. I took the covers off of me and started running for the door before I ran into Rex's toned chest. I fell to the ground on my butt, fearful.

". . . what are you doing out of bed?" Rex asked, the side of his teeth grit together. Rex reminded me of Johnny's dad. I had only seen the man once and it was on total accident, Dad and I were driving home and we saw poor Johnny getting screamed at on his front lawn by his father. The large man with broad shoulders and a bottle of beer in his hand. I remember being frightened of him and Dad holding me close, rubbing my back. He told me it was alright and he wouldn't let Johnny's dad within ten feet of me.

I felt a lump coming to my throat in remembering my father, my REAL father, not this joke.

"Get in bed." He hissed. I nodded, climbing back into the covers. Rex stayed in the room, just watching me. Every now and then he'd take a swig of his alcoholic beverage, but his eyes never left me. I slithered deep into the covers, hoping I could pretend to sleep good enough so he'll leave me alone. Instead, he came closer.

"My. . boy. . " He hiccuped, rubbing my back. I cringed, closing my eyes tight, hoping this was all just a nightmare.

"Michael~ Momma has your milk." Chrissy came in, sitting on the edge of the bed. I held back a whine as I sat up. My eyes widened seeing she had brought me a small child's milk bottle with the rubber nipple and everything.

"May. . . I have a glass, please?" I begged. Chrissy shook her head, "I didn't want you dropping it on you, Michael. Lay down and Daddy will sing for you." Rex, with his slightly clean-shaven face, steel blue sharp, cold eyes and black hair. . . never crossed my mind to be the singing type. I didn't want Rex to sing to me, I wanted to go home! I wanted Soda to sing to me, I wanted Darry to hold me, I wanted Two-bit's lame jokes he laughs so hard at, hell, I even wanted Steve to call me a tag-along kid.

It's a redundant cycle: I want to go home.

"Drink, boy." Rex growled. I didn't know if he had a heater, or maybe a knife, or a blade on him so I allowed Chrissy to stick the childish item in my mouth and felt the warm milk drain down my throat. I fought hard to keep awake, but with the warmth of the milk and oddly enough Rex's alto singing-song voice, he would have been good if he hadn't drank so much and had to pause to either belch or nearly vomit. I felt my eyes become heavy and I fell right to sleep.

"I love you, Michael."

Michael . . . Michael. . . Michael. . . .

I wasn't Michael, I was Ponyboy.

**~Three Days~**

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><p><strong>Short chapter, I know, but I didn't have much time to write today, but hopefully this was enough for you all.<br>****Thanks for the kind, encouraging reviews, keep them coming.**

**-The Youngest Writer. **


	4. Chapter 4 The Second Day

**Hello again! Welcome to another chapter of: Three Days. **

**-The Youngest Writer.**

**Warning: Spanking of a minor**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 3-THE SECOND DAY<strong>

**~Three Days~**

_I shuttered and shivered, walking into the warm house. It had been raining outside and I just hoped Darry wouldn't be mad at me for forgetting my coat-_

_"Ponyboy!"_

_Fat chance._

_"Where in the hell have you been?" He stood up from the chair, his height easily towering over me. He looked intimidating with his piercing icy eyes glaring at me and the way he harshly clutched my purple jacket in his right hand, holding it with his whole hand as if my jacket was that small, as if I was that small._

_"It's past dinner time and you're soaking wet!" He hollered. "For god's sake, you're tracking in mud, too!"_

_I looked down at my ruined tennis shoes, I guess I hadn't thought about it before Darry pointed it out. "You mean to tell me I have to buy you shoes too?! I'm not made of money, Ponyboy Curtis! Are you listening to me?!"_

_Was I? I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I had been so focused on trying to get warm from the storm I had to brace myself through that I wasn't listening to Darry. Sodapop came to my rescue with a warm towel that he draped around me._

_"Let the boy breathe, Darry! For Pete's sake, he hasn't said a work in edge-wise since he stepped in the door!"_

_I shivered, my teeth chattering._

_"Darry, he's as cold as ice-"_

_"Well, it wouldn't have happened if he had just came straight home instead of bumming around with those 'idiots' he calls friends." Darry crossed his arms, he never approved of Curly Shepard being my friend, but Curly helped me get my mind off Johnny and Dallas and I felt insulted he was saying such things._

_". . .S-shut your m-mouth Darry!" my teeth chattered._

_Darry glared at me, "Excuse me?! What did you just say to me?" He spoke with a parental tone that I knew meant trouble was dead ahead if I didn't keep my mouth shut. However, it wasn't my fault I was late. Really, it wasn't._

_"Don't you talk to me the way you do, Ponyboy! I swear I'll belt you!"_

_I crossed my arms, "Oh that's very Christian of you: Obey me or I'll hurt you." I instantly regretted saying that because quicker than I could blink his hand collided with my face, smacking me. I flew back against the wall. I didn't even think as I ran out the door. He hit me, Darry had hit me! It was pouring rain and the thunder was booming so I couldn't hear Soda's plea for me to come back. _

_I ran as fast as my legs could run but soon I came to a street I didn't recognize and slipped on the concrete, landing on my head. _

_I laid in the dark with the rain falling on me, the only feeling I felt other than the rain, the sting from the slap on my cheek and the coldness of the night, was that of someone dragging me._

**~Three Days~**

I awoke and slowly sat up straight. There was sunlight coming in from the hallway into "my room" and I couldn't hear anything. I figured as much that maybe Rex and Chrissy were sleeping, giving me enough time to escape. I licked my lips and took the chance. I looked at myself for a moment, I was still in the light blue flannel pj's from last night and I wanted to be dressed in pants and a shirt, or at least have shoes on.

But if this was all I could have, than I'd bare the embarrassment.

I quickly left the room, careful not to make too much noise. I raced down the steps into the living room. I found the two front doors and smiled with delights as I went to push them open-

A hand was placed on my shoulder.

"Where do you think you're going?"

I turned in terror seeing Rex. He didn't look too happy. Before I could explain myself, Rex had swung my over his shoulder while I kicked and clawed, trying to escape.

"Let go!" I cried. "Please, let me go!"

Rex obviously didn't listen as he entered the living room, he placed me on his knee and rose it a bit, trapping me. I cried in horror as he started striking me with his bare hand on the backside of me. I cried in pain with each and every slap he gave me across my rump. I had never been spanked before, I never deserved one, the only punishments I normally got as a small child was 'corner-time' or 'sent-to-my-room' but other than that, this was the first.

I pleaded for him to stop, but I was ignored.

He finally stopped after I went limp from fighting in his lap.

"Michael, tell Daddy what you did wrong." Rex took a drag from his cigar. I sniffed, I didn't want to succumb to the demeaning behavior they obviously wanted me to follow.

"Michael!" He sounded impatient.

"I. . . I tried to leave." I sniffed.

"Do we leave this house without someone with us?" Rex asked.

"No." It was an obvious answer to an oblivious question. Rex stood me on the floor, yanking my ear to the kitchen where Chrissy was making eggs. He pulled me into the corner of the kitchen by the table.

"Stay there." He hissed in my ear, walking away. I choked on a sob. My backside hurt so bad, but not as much as my pride. I stood in the corner, hearing the sound of Chrissy's high heels clomp on the floor every once in a while and the smell of breakfast was alluring.

I heard plates being set on the table and short afterwards, Chrissy came over, putting her hand on my shoulder and gently bringing me to the table. I hissed in pain when I sat down but tired to ignore the sting on my butt and focused on the food.

After a short while of silence, Chrissy made an offer I couldn't resist.

"Michael, how about we go outside in the garden today?" She smiled.

I looked at her strangely. _She's joking, right? _

"We'll tend to the flowers, you like that, don't you?"

I smiled, eagerly, "Sure, I'd love that."

**~Three Days~**

The garden outside wasn't grand, but it was fairly large with lots of Calla Lilies growing to a substantial height. Chrissy smiled, handing me the water bucket while she went to an opposite side of the garden. I looked around. I could see literally NOTHING but plains for miles. Any chance of escaping would be tricky and not to mention, I don't even know which direction Tulsa was.

"Having fun, Michael?" I turned around seeing Chrissy smiling and waving.

"Y-Yeah," I lied. "So much. . . fun."

I frowned, grazing a flower with my finger tips. These were my mother-my REAL Mother's-favorite flower.

I watered while Chrissy weeded and soon the job was done and she hesitantly brought me back inside, making sure to lock the back door. I was to be in "my room" until lunch time, Chrissy brought me books and paper to draw, but I wasn't in the mood. I laid my head on my pillow trying to catch a small nap when I heard voices.

". . he's not ready yet!"

It was Rex. I narrowed my eyes, tip-toeing to the door, I looked around to see where the voices were coming from, I could hear them in the living room. I slowly walked to the banister and crouched down to the side and looked through the black bars, watching Rex stand before two men.

"He hasn't shown signs of warming up to us or even trusting us." Rex replied, "I'm working as fast as I can here."

"Boss wants the money as soon as possible, Rex. Him warming up to you, is the least of your problems."

I was confused, who were they talking about?

"Look, I've got a bigger problem on my hands, more than if your boss gets his money or not!" Rex growled, "I just took a kid off the damn streets and if the cops find out, than I'm history and he doesn't get paid! Do you understand that?!"

"We'll provice you safety for one more night, but tomorrow, you better have the money!"

They left, slamming the door. Rex quickly turned to stare at me and I screamed, rushing to the room, but was yanked by the arm just before I could hide.

"How much did you hear?!" Rex yelled in my ear, making me turn away. "How much, Michael?!"

I whimpered as he pulled my arm.

"N-Nothing!" I lied.

"Don't you fib at me, boy. I'll give you a real reason to cry. Would you like a repeat of this morning?!" I shuttered at the memory and Rex started to raise his hand-

"Wait, I can help!" I cried, I didn't realize what I had said before I opened my eyes slowly to see now Rex's confused face. I shivered as he let go of me and I raced to the bed, grabbing a pillow to hold for comfort.

". . . what did you say?"

"I-I. . . I can help." I spoke, "With the money."

Rex's steel, angry eyes softened but only for a moment. He got closer to me, sitting on the bed. I would have moved further away from him if I wasn't already against the wall.

"Oh?And how so?" He taunted.

"There's a stash I know of. It's hidden away." I began. "It's in a box, a brown one, in the dirt. I hid it." Maybe if I convinced Rex to take me back to Tulsa, I could escape. I mean, he needed money he obviously didn't have. Rex let out a bark of laughter and I was scared he wasn't going to go along with my plan.

"You mean to tell me you got a little over five grand stashed away? Kid, you're bullshitting me."

"In the bank!" I cried. "My parents-"

Rex cleared his throat, a gesture that I was stepping over the line. "Er, I have a lot in my bank! My bank." I cried, desperate for him to believe me.

"Yeah, okay. Little punk." Rex patted my head. "You keep telling me that." With that he chuckled and left the room. Leaving me more hopeless than ever.

I couldn't say I was hopeless for long, later on as I was waking up from a small nap I took, Rex was in my doorway once again.

" . . . you were telling the truth about the money, were you?"

I bit my cheeks, trying not to smile.

I nodded.

"Yes. I have a good amount. It should help."

It was working, my plan to return home way working!

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><p><strong><strong>**Thanks for the kind, encouraging reviews, keep them coming.**

**-The Youngest Writer. **


	5. Chapter 5 The Second Night

**Hello again! Welcome to another chapter of: Three Days. **

**-The Youngest Writer.**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 4-THE SECOND NIGHT<strong>

**~Three Days~**

"How much do you got? Where is it? How did you come across it?" It was like Rex was wanting to know every nitty-gritty detail about the money I lied saying I had. I was waiting for him to ask me questions such as:_ What color was it? What did it feel like, smell like?_

"I saved up." I would say. "I was saving for a trip. I have a lot."

He dropped it for a while and was distant from me. Chrissy and I watched a lot of TV, mostly soap-operas and Perry Manson court shows. I'd take a glance at the clocks, watching the hours, minutes, seconds; they'd just drag on, and on.

It wasn't until "bedtime" when after Chrissy tucked me in did Rex come in. I was nervous and tried to fake sleep but he shook me.

"Don't fall asleep just yet, Michael."

I shiver, _Michael. . . Michael._ I'm NOT Michael!

"How much money do you have, Michael? Answer me, boy." His voice was always gruff. It's hard to imagine that when I told him my little white-lie, he cracked a tiny grin.

"A-about three hundred." I lied, hoping I wouldn't get caught.

There was dead silence before-" Boy, if you're lying. . . " I'm glad he didn't finish his sentence, I wouldn't want to know what would happen if he told me what he'd do to me if he found out I was, in fact, lying.

"N-n-no sir, Dad. . . . I'm not."

That seemed to please him. "Good, because good-boys don't lie to their parents, do they Michael?"

"N-no."

I couldn't stop shaking.

"Are you cold, son?"

"A little. . ."

He covered another blanket on me and I hid my face. I bit my lip, trying not to have him hear me hold back cries. I wanted Soda, I wanted Soda. . .

**~Three Days~**

Sodapop Curtis was tossing and turning in his and Pony's bed. He turned to face the left side, AKA, Pony's side of the bed. He gently allowed his hand to place itself on the cold sheets. He clutched Pony's pillow and took a deep breath in. It still had Pony's scent.

Soda felt tears drop from his eyes and he cluthed the pillow for dear life.

"Ponyboy. . . where are you?" He cried.

Darry too, wasn't sleeping. He stood in their parent's room holding an old black and white photo. It was a picture taken a long time ago, Darry a kid, Soda was still a toddler and Pony just a baby. The three of them were on the couch, Soda next to Darry and Darry giving the honor of holding Ponyboy.

". . . I failed." He felt his voice hitch.

He held the photo close to him and fought tears.

**~Three Days~**

Around two in the morning, I felt my stomach growl and it made me queasy. The pasta Chrissy made for dinner was good, but now it wasn't setting just right with me. I needed some water. I wrapped the blankets around myself as I walked to the kitchen. I looked around and realized I was probably the only one up.

I could possibly leave, but where to? I was in the middle of nowhere and if I did, someone was bound to catch me.

I grabbed a glass of water and starred at the door for a long time. It took every ounce of my mind to convince myself to not run outside. I shivered. If I went back to bed, I'd fall asleep, wake up and trick Chrissy and Rex into taking me back to town and I'd be home soon.

I prayed to God this would work. I sipped my water walking up the stairs. At the top of the steps, I turned to go to my room when something fell out of a closet door. I jumped out of fear and sighed seeing it was only a little red ball. I frowned in curiosity, walking towards it. I slowly opened the door only to see the creepiest closet I had ever seen. Inside was a small rocking horse, toy cars, a baseball bat and glove and a few other toys fit for a boy. On the wall were articals of newspapers inside photo frames. I turned on the light above me and silently closed the door.

"A child in Tulsa, on December twenty-seventh, is rushed to the hospital from an auto wreck." I read quietly and slowly.

". . . 1966."

The only auto wreck he knew that happened in December was the one involving his parents. He gulped, reading another picture frame.

"Child's name unknown until further details are given about his/or her condition from severe wreckage of December twenty-seventh."

I started to get a bad feeling.

"Child dies three days after the wreck on December twenty-seventh. Parents of the child refuse to give the name, but the sex was male, his age was thirteen. . . " I shivered, feeling very cold as I noticed the back end of one photo frame was loose. I found a small corner of paper and gently pulled on it until I realized I pulled out a photo.

I couldn't breathe as I held my hand to my mouth, preventing myself from screaming.

The boy looked to have the same features as I did, Green eyes, reddish hair and a grin on his face. He didn't look like me, but we had the same features.

'Michael' was written in bold marker at the top, but was crossed off with black sharpie.

There was another artical, different however.

"Missing child in Tulsa, last seen walking his dog in his neighborhood, never seen again." I remembered this. It was all over the papers and Darry practically wouldn't let me out in our front lawn without supervision.

I found another photo in the corner. Again, reddish-hair, green eyes but this one had glasses. 'Michael' was crossed off at the top.

"Another child goes missing in the outskirts of Tulsa. . . "

My biggest fear was seeing my picture at the very top left hand corner. It was the one that was in the newspapers when, Johnny, Dallas and I were called heroes for saving those kids in Windrixvill. At the top in red marker was the name: 'Michael' written in red.

It wasn't crossed off, and I had a feeling I didn't want it to be.

I dropped the photos and ran to the room, jumping on the bed to hide under the covers.

I had to hurry up with this plan. This time, if I failed, I had a feeling that "my name" would be crossed off.

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><p><strong>Thanks for the kind, encouraging reviews, keep them coming.<strong>

**-The Youngest Writer. **


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